He would be scundered but he would also be chuffed.
That was his way. He was a modest shy man.

He first came into my life when he started chasing
my sister Anne away back in the days when we went to ceilis in An Ard Scoil and
later in the 43 Club.

Eamon was a mod. With an Elvis Presley hair style.

He was born into a staunchly republican family
sixteen years earlier.

His mother Nelly and father Dan were republican
activists in their own time.

Nelly was from Bombay Street.

She was a volunteer in Cumann na mBan and later its
OC in Belfast

Eamonn’s father Dan was originally from Lurgan
before moving to Ballymacarrett in East Belfast.

He was interned in the 1940s and again in the
fifties.

Eamonn was born in Ballymacarrett in 1949.

The family moved in the 1950s to Kenard Avenue in Andytown.

Dan and Nellie McCaughley

In the mid 1960’s republicans were reorganizing.

Across the world progressive people were on the
rise.

In South Africa, Cuba, across Europe and in the
USA.

The demand was for rights and for freedom.

So too here in Ireland, particularly in the North where
– surprise, surprise there was resistance to the modest demands of the civil
rights struggle.

There was also time for fun.

Bhí craic ann. Ag ceol. Uaireannta maith.

For scorieachts. Singing sessions. Bus trips to
Tyrella. Excursions to Edentubber and Bodenstown.

And all time Eamonn was courting Anne.

By now he was a regular feature in our house where
he often entertained us with Elvis songs or a Roy Orbison number and his own peculiar
form of jiving.

Eamonn first joined Na Fianna and then the Army.

During the pogroms of August 1969 Eamonn was in the
front line helping to evacuate his Granny and others from Bombay Street, and then
from other districts under attack from RUC, B Special and loyalist mobs.

In the immediate aftermath of the pogroms there was
a split in the Army in December 1969 and in Sinn Féin in 1970.

And in the long lens of history this represented a
significant set-back for the struggle.

For a short time Eamonn stayed with the Official
IRA but he quickly shifted his support to the Provisional Army Council.

He and Anne were married on 5 April 1971.

Bhí ceathar paistí acu: Eamon agus Fionnuala, Seán agus
Bronagh.

During the 1970’s Eamonn was arrested and interned
twice.

His sister Briege Anne was in Armagh Women’s
Prison.

Today, is for all of us who had the joy and honour
to know Big Eamonn a day to remember with affection and pride a man of enormous
courage.

He was a quiet thoughtful republican.

He never said a sectarian word in my presence in
his life who rarely talked about his time as an Oglach.

A faithful loyal comrade who dedicated years of his
life to the cause of Irish freedom and to the Irish people.

Fear croaga Eamonn – Mo Laoch. Mo Giolle mhear.

Big Eamonn loved Ireland – he loved the people of
Ireland.

It was in his DNA.

He was also a loving and attentive son and brother,
a devoted husband, father and grandfather.

So, on my own behalf and that of Colette.

Colette always sent Eamonn a bottle of Bacardi every
Christmas and he always received it as if it was the only bottle of Bacardi in
the entire world and as if he was surprised by it.

So on my own family, and on behalf of Republicans
everywhere, I want to extend our heartfelt condolences to Anne, Eamonn,
Fionnuala, Sean and Bronagh, to Patricia, to Gemma, and to Charlie and to the
grandchildren and great grand-daughter.

Condolences also to Maire, Fionnuala, Briege Anne,
and Ciaran and remembering also Big Eamonn’s brother Donal who died four years
ago to the day that Eamonn passed.

You are all in our prayers and our thoughts.

My chomhbhrón also, to Eamonn’s comrades and to the
former prisoners who did time with him.

He would be very proud and pleased with the geriatric
Guard of Honour. All the aul timers.

My commiserations and thanks also to Eamonn’s
workmates in Healy’s Undertakers and to the paramedics and doctors and nurses
who minded him when he took sick last Friday.

Me and Eamonn surrounded by the RUC on the Ormeau Bridge

After I was shot in 1984 the late Tom Cahill
decided that I needed a driver.

Up until then there were about a dozen people at
different times who I could get lifts from.

Eamonn was always reliable when I needed transport.

So Tom asked him to drive me on a fulltime, unwaged
and voluntary basis.

Eamonn agreed and together for over seventeen years
we travelled the length and breadth of this island and further afield.

Eamonn was Sinn Féin’s first security team.

It was a dangerous time and a dangerous job.

As well as the constant threat of assassination
there was the daily gauntlet of RUC and British Army harassment.

The arrogant viciousness of RUC officers, UDR and
British Army soldiers who at every opportunity and at every checkpoint, made
threats and tried to intimidate us.

Sometimes we were three or four hours on the side
of the road.

The arrival of Peter Hartley into our team
increased the danger and many times Eamonn and I had to protect poor wee Brits
from Peter.

Our adventures and our misadventures, were
numerous.

Mise agus Martin Ferris and Martin McGuinness in London with Eamonn looking after us

I have limited myself today to a few examples.

The first was when Eamonn was joined by Cleaky,
Chink and Moke, Big Austin, Jamesy, Bernie, Murph, JimmyM, Mousey, Chico, and Gerard
and others in providing security around the Sinn Féin negotiating team.

Cleaky had just been released from prison, he was
under treatment for cancer, was asked to take charge of this.

He had few resources and almost no money.

Sinn Féin which was growing in strength was under
constant attack, in our homes and offices.

Our members and family members were being killed.

And many were injured.

Cleaky’s skill as a scrounger was legendary.

Working with Big Eamonn and their small security
team they liberated security doors, outside lights, inter-coms, security
grills, toughened glass, bullet-proof vests and anything else that could save
lives.

Big Eamonn keeping an eye on things as I spoke to US National Security Adviser Tony Lake, and Nancy Soderberg as we waited on the Falls for President Clinton in 1995

On one occasion, just before the first public
engagement between Sinn Féin and the Brits, Cleaky secured ear pieces and
microphones for personal radios for the security team.

There was only one problem Cleaky told Eamonn,
before briefing the rest of the team.

The radios didn’t work. There were no transmitters.

But Cleaky explained to Eamonn that the appearance
of having a very efficient security team could put off any would be attackers.

‘Ok’ said Eamonn.

So they pulled the rest of the team together and
handed out the ear pieces and the microphones.

‘Put these down the sleeve of your coats’ Cleaky
told them, and then speak into the microphone.

‘But there’s no transmitters,’ said Moke.

‘They don’t know that,’ said Eamonn.

‘But the radios aren’t working,’ said Moke.

Cleaky interrupted; ‘We’re going to have a visible
presence at the meeting tomorrow. We will be a deterrent@.

So said Eamonn; ‘We have to look as if we know what
we are doing. So, just let on the radios are working.’

‘Ok’ said Moke. ‘‘What’s my code name?’

‘What do you need a code name for’ said Cleaky.
‘The radios aren’t working’.

‘But we’re letting on they are. So we need code
names.’

‘Ok said Eamonn. ‘Chucky number 1, Chucky number 2,
Chucky number 3. Chucky number 4, Chucky number 5 …’

So, the next day when our delegation arrived at
Parliament Buildings for negotiations with the British, Big Eamonn and the rest
took up their positions, for all the world looking like US secret service agents
talking to their sleeves.

The media and everyone else was hugely impressed.

There is old television footage of Cleaky talking
into his sleeve.

But they didn’t know what he was saying.

‘Come in Chucky number 1 this is Up the Ra. Over
and out mo chara’.

On another occasion, in November 1987 Eamonn was
driving me and Danny Morrison back to Belfast.

We heard on the news that one of the H Block escapees
Paul Kane was under siege by the Garda Special Branch in Cavan Town.

They were waiting for an extradition warrant.

Eamonn, Danny and I immediately headed for Cavan.

We picked up Paul and brought him to Brian
McKeown’s home followed by the Garda Special Branch.

Then we decided to head for the border with Paul.

Now with hindsight that now seems a bit strange
given that the state wanted to extradite Paul to the North.

However, our plan was that Danny Morrison would put
on Paul’s coat.

Paul would put on my jacket.

And while Danny acted as a decoy and sprinted
across the fields, Paul would sneak off.

That was the plan.

We clambered into the car.

Then Eamonn drove like a formula one racing driver down
into Cavan Town chased by Garda cars, with lights blazing and sirens blaring.

It was like the Dukes of Hazzard.

Round and round we went before breaking for the
border.

Eventually Eamonn screeched the car to a halt.

Danny the decoy jumped out.

He jumped over a hedge on the opposite side of the
road and disappeared into a 15-foot deep sheough.

Paul exited left only to be wrestled to the ground
by several Garda.

I lost my coat. Danny lost his shoes.

And Eamonn lost his driving licence after he and
Paul were taken to Mountjoy Prison.

Paul was extradited to the North.

If he’s here today I would be really glad to get my
jacket back.

My last story is a more tragic one.

After Mairead Farrell, Dan McCann and Sean Savage
were executed by the SAS in Gibraltar Eamonn was part of the long journey home
from Dublin airport to Belfast.

It took six and a half hours to reach the border
where the RUC stopped us.

They wanted to hyjack the hearses. We wouldn’t let
them.

There was standoff, during which we formed a convoy
with our cars interspersed with the hearses.

Martin McGuinness was there and members of the
McCann, Savage and Farrell families, along with other comrades.

Eventually we moved off again through Newry Town toward
the MI.

The funeral cortege was attacked a number of times
enroute.

But small groups of supporters also gathered at the
crossroads to salute the Gibraltar martyrs.

And as we sped towards Belfast the RUC landrovers
tried to force our cars out of the cortege.

We were surrounded on all sides by landrovers.

Inches separated Eamonn’s car from the armoured vehicles.

Eamonn drove mightily that night as he prevented
the RUC from isolating the three hearses.

Eventually however we were forced off the road at
Kennedy Way.

And what was the point in that exercise?

It was a futile effort by the RUC to pretend that
they were in charge.

Because once they separated us from the hearses
they allowed the hearses to proceed to the respective family homes.

Finally, one last story.

The roundabout beyond Sprucefield is known to us as
Eamonn’s Roundabout.

One fateful night, very late as we were coming from
Kerry, as we approached it I noticed that Eamonn wasn’t slowing down.

I knew we were in trouble when I heard him snoring.

‘Eamonn,’ I screamed.

And he woke up just as the car hit the roundabout
and took off.

It was like an Evel Knievel stunt.

We almost cleared the roundabout and landed safely.

That was before mobile phones so my brother Dominic
went off to get help.

The RUC arrived. They saw who we were and went off
again.

I looked at Eamonn.

Eamonn looked at me.

‘Well’ he
said. ‘I think I landed that very well.’

That was Eamonn.

Eamonn and Gerry Kelly and Bik McFarlane in the Hospital cell in which Bobby died.

Our family, like most families, are doing our best
to live lives rooted in decency, fairness and justice.

Eamonn and my lovely thoughtful sister Anne embodies
that.

In their love for each other.

Their loyalty. Their love for family and community
and Ireland.

In their humanity and compassion.

Their children, Eamonn, Fionnuala, Sean, and
Bronagh are a credit to them.

I want to address my concluding remarks to their
children to Anne and Eamonn’s
grandchildren – to the future -; Eamonn óg, Ferghal – Ferghal has a big fight
on Saturday night Eamonn will be in your corner - Áine, Conchur, the twins
Caitlin and Tierna, the other twins Miceál and Deághlan, Cathal, Eimhear,
Fiadh, Cormac, Sean Pearse, Oisín and their great -granddaughter Rionach.

You are Eamonn’s legacy.

When I see all you fine handsome young men and much
smarter beautiful young women, I know the future is bright.

Those of you who are old enough will remember
Eamonn.

He changed your nappies, cleaned your bums, wiped
up after you.

He taught you to walk.

Did your homework with you.

Watched you playing sport.

He minded you when you were sick.

Scolded you when you needed scolding.

He lectured you when you messed up.

Then gave you the pocket money – when he had it –
to allow you to mess up again.

And he defended you if your parents took exception
to your occasional teenage misadventures.

Eamonn was quite rightly proud of you all.

Now some of the younger ones may not remember him.

Tell them about him.

Rionach is only nine months old. She won’t remember
him.

So tell her and the other weans about their Daideo.

Let them know who he was.

What he and Granny Anne did for you all in your own
personal lives, in that lovely subversive relationship, that good grandparents
enjoy with their grandchildren.

All children need iconic figures who they can
depend on.

Eamonn McCaughley was very dependable.

Tell them all of this and tell them before they
were born that he fought for them and their future.

So that they will grow old in a free and united
Ireland.

Tell them their Granda was in the Ra.

Tell them that he and Granny Anne were fighters for
freedom.

Champions for rights.

Activists for equality.

So thank you Eamonn for your friendship; for your
comradeship.

For all the adventures.

For all the miles on the road.

Thank you for minding me but especially thank you
for minding my sister Anne and for leaving her so many wee McCaughley’s to mind
her for you in the time ahead.